


raison d'être

by bugnet



Series: Klance AU Month [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 15:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17624957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugnet/pseuds/bugnet
Summary: raison d'être(n.) a reason for existingit's klance au month! what better way to spend it than by writing something for each and every day? tags will be updated with each new prompt.





	raison d'être

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @gardenergf !! i'll be posting the fics there too. :)

**EPHEMERAL** ; lasting a very short time.

 

The sound of tinkling bells makes Lance spin around.

It came as quickly as it went, and was so loud in his ears he might as well have been right next to its source. There was no one on the empty street but him though, and all the stores around him were closed. Rightfully so - the blizzard was terrible. Everything was white; he could see nothing save for the faint twinkle of string lights that lined establishment doors and windows. He wasn’t even decently dressed for the wild weather, wearing only a sweater, a coat and a knit blue scarf, yet he didn’t feel as if his fingers and toes would fall off, and strangely enough his breath didn’t condense whenever he breathed. Lance wanted to question the strangeness of the setting, but he was more enthralled by this bell that rang at irregular intervals.

Hearing it again, he moves past bakeries and delicatessens with a purpose towards the noise.

Walking through the storm is surprisingly easy, even if he could barely see anything. The wind doesn’t push him around, though his scarf still dances behind him wildly. It was so odd; he’d never experienced anything like this before, yet he didn’t have the incentive to question it. He passes cake shops and ice cream parlors, but the ringing doesn’t come from any of these places. Perhaps it was coming from the middle of the square where the large Christmas tree sits, billowing in the wind and losing its bulbs and pine needles. That didn’t make sense though, because he was blocks and blocks away from the tree, and yet the bell doesn’t even sound like an echo. The ringing was so otherworldly and pretty that for a moment he wondered if it was in his head and that he was going bananas.

Lance hears the bell again and stops in front of a small building. He had almost missed it. It was hard to spot, practically hidden away like a secret. He couldn’t see the name of the place because the sign was frosted over, but he could just make out a drawing of a coffee cup on its glass window. It was coming from… a coffee shop? He pulls open the door and ducks inside. The bell jingles one last time and then it is silent. Snow flurries around for a moment before floating to the ground and melting upon impact. There is no muffled sound from the storm outside, no atmospheric music that plays over speakers, no whir of a coffee machine or idle chatter from customers. Lance figures that he’s just insanely early. The lights are on after all, and the air smelled of baked pastries and freshly brewed coffee.

Lance walks up to the counter and eyes the cakes and cookies that sit in neat little lines behind a glass case. His mouth waters, and he looks around for any source of life, a coat hanging off a chair, a book with a receipt being used as a bookmark, an unfinished sentence on the chalkboard sitting behind the register that featured specialities for the day and cute coffee related puns. There was nothing.

“Hello?” Lance calls. “Is anyone here?”

“Yes, just a second,” came a response, and Lance felt a surge of relief wash over him. Not because he would soon have a warm mocha latte in his hands, but because everything up until this point had felt so lonely, even e. At the sound of footsteps he looks up. A boy wearing a burgundy turtleneck is tying a dark brown apron around his waist. He stops at the register, and Lance feels his cheeks getting a little hot when dark, questioning eyes flit across his face. “Hi there,” he says.

“Hello.” Lance glances at the boy’s name tag and smiles. “Hello Keith. So, like, am I super early or what? This place is like a ghost town.”

Keith chuckles. “I’d say you’re pretty early, yeah. I’ll still take your order though.”

All Lance requests is a grande mocha. He goes to sit at a small round table when he’s finished ordering and taps his foot as he waits, watching Keith work in silence. He wonders how long he’s been working here, or what his favorite drink is. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this boy before, but something about him seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe he’d been in the background of a selfie taken by Romelle, or there was a chance he attended the same college he did. They just hadn’t crossed paths because they took different classes. Keith looked around the same age as him, had tired eyes and messy hair. Obviously he was a depressed student using this job as a means to pay for books and other things he needed for school. Obviously.

“Here you are.” Lance’s eyes light up at the steaming drink that is placed before him. He inhales the chocolate aroma and sighs pleasantly.

“God that smells _amazing_ ,” Lance says. Keith smiles warmly and places a gable box near his coffee cup. Lance opens it and inside are chocolate chip and sugar cookies packed together neatly. He raises an eyebrow. “Um, I didn’t order cookies.”

“Don’t worry, they’re on the house.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lance doesn’t know what he did to be treated so graciously, but he thanks Keith anyway and bites into the confection. He tries his absolute hardest to hold back a groan. The cookies were so damn good, soft with gooey chocolate and heavenly vanilla that warmed his cheeks. It was like he was floating on a cloud, the feeling of wanting to scarf down all the cookies at once overwhelming.

“So,” says Keith, knocking him out of his reverie, “I’m guessing that by your reaction they’re actually decent?” He gets an enthusiastic nod in response and grins. “That’s good. Baking cookies has never been my strong suit.”

“Are you kidding me? These cookies taste like each one holds a secret to the universe. They’re _that_ good,” Lance says honestly. Keith blushes and turns away to tinker with the register, and Lance feels butterflies flutter around in his stomach. Once he’s finished his cookies and coffee, he stands and stuffs his dirty napkins into the gable box, throwing it and his cup into a trash bin. “Thanks for everything, Keith. It was delicious.”

Keith rests on his elbows and gives the other a lopsided smile. “Of course. It was nice meeting you, Lance.”

“You too,” Lance beams. He pushes his chair under the round table and walks to the door. The two wave goodbye to each other and Lance steps outside, back into the blizzard. It doesn’t take long for the bells to start ringing again and Lance turns this way and that. He was certain it came from the coffee shop, seeing as how they stopped as soon as he stepped inside, but he wasn’t sure anymore. He thinks of going back inside to ask Keith if he can hear the ceaseless noise, too. He tastes the chocolate on his tongue and decides to return to the peaceful spot, but he missteps and end up slipping on ice. Squeezing his eyes shut, he expects an impact from the fall, but it never comes. For a moment, he is in a silent darkness. Then, he opens his eyes.

Lance questions were he is before realizing that he’d somehow rolled off his bed, taking his blankets with him and becoming a burrito on the carpeted floor. He groggily looks up at his television stand, his desk and chair, the life-size bunny plush that Hunk had won for him at a county fair, all of which tower over him. He gets up slowly and pushes aside his curtains, eyes widening just a bit at the sight of snow. His car is almost hidden underneath a large pile of the white stuff and he groans. It’ll be hell trying to unbury ol’ Blue.

Ringing bells startles him. Turning around he spots his cellphone sitting face down next to his pillow, close to falling onto the floor. He picks it up and sees an alarm titled “ _okay you seriously need to get up NOW lance_ ” flashing across his screen. He switches it off. Judging by the title, this must have been the fifth alarm he set for himself.

“Whoops,” he mumbles. It didn't really bother him. He was certain that classes were cancelled anyway, thanks to the snow. He stares down at his phone and remembers the echo of a ringing bell, the coffee shop, and the boy whose name he’s already forgotten. “Just a dream,” he says before climbing into his bed and drifting off.


End file.
